


a different self

by Areiton



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Character Study, Extremis, Fix-It, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, M/M, POV Alternating, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Retiring, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26066797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: There is this--Four broken fingers. A shattered sternum and three broken ribs. A collapsed lung and a crescent shaped scar, bisecting his chest.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 182
Collections: Lights on Park Ave





	a different self

**_Have you ever had that feeling--that you’d like to go to a whole different place and become a whole different self?_ **

**_Haruki Murakami - The Wind-up Bird Chronicles_ **

There is this--

Four broken fingers. A shattered sternum and three broken ribs. A collapsed lung and a crescent shaped scar, bisecting his chest. 

There is this--

An empty bed and an empty compound and an empty prison under the storm tossed ocean. 

There is this--

There is  _ nothing.  _

~*~ 

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he says, and Rhodey watches him, eyes big and worried, and he remembers a lifetime ago, saying those words and a sharp blade, and Rhodey’s gasping panic. 

He remembers whispering them and a pile of white powder and overhead lights and bedside prayers. 

He remembers Pepper murmuring them, and the choking grief and shattering loneliness. 

He remembers Steve--

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he begs and Rhodey catches his hands, the one with only a hairline fracture in the wrist and says, softly, “Ok.” 

~*~ 

They piece him back together. Helen and her Cradle, Rhodey and his stubbornness, Pepper and her vial of Extremis. 

They piece him back together, but they don’t know,  _ he _ doesn’t  _ know _ , what exactly it will mean. 

Not until he’s lying there, awash in pain and burning from the inside and all he can see when he closes his eyes is blue eyes and a golden smile and a shield slamming down. 

He screams. 

He screams because he’s  _ tired  _ and because he  _ hurts _ and because every breath is a reminder of something he wants, desperately, to forget. 

He screams and they piece him back together and he wants to  _ forget.  _

_ Extremis listens.  _

✮✮✮

You dream sometimes. 

Of that last moment--when Bucky was panting in pain, and Tony was sprawled under you, and your shield was tight in your hands, and coming down. 

You dream sometimes that the repulsor had actually fired, and the blow never lands. 

You dream that you throw the shield aside and beg him to listen and he  _ does.  _

You dream that you don’t check your blow, that it comes down on his throat. 

You wake from your dreams and they’re nightmares, and so is the life you’re living. 

✮✮✮

It takes months to come home. Longer than you expected--T’challa says it is politics and the legal matters to sort through, and that these things take time. 

You wait, because it grates, but then you made your choice, and you can’t expect more than what you are given, not when you threw away everything that Tony tried to give you. 

You wait, and when the time comes, Bucky leans into your shoulder and says, “You’re gonna fix this.” 

You hope he’s right. 

✮✮✮

Rhodey is waiting, next to a slight young man with hard eyes and a blind man with a half smile. 

Vision is there, a step or two away. 

Tony--Tony isn’t. 

Tony hasn’t been in the news and he hasn’t been in the suit, and he isn’t here, and the fear that’s been building since he slammed that shield down boils up and over. 

“Where--” you stumble a little, and Bucky steadies you. Holds you up. “Where is he?” 

Rhodey watches you and there’s something like pity in his eyes. 

✮✮✮ 

Rhodey tells you later. 

After everyone is settled in and the boy--Peter, Stark’s boy, you remember him from that horrible fight in Germany--is tucked away in the lab, and your hands aren’t shaking. 

After the new order of things has been explained and your team has had their say and you quietly agree, because you led the Avengers once, and it ended bloody and horrible and you don’t want that, not anymore. 

After-- _ after-- _ he says, “I didn’t want to tell you.” 

He says, “This is only because I promised him.” 

He says, “Don’t you dare ruin this for him.” 

After--

He tells you. 

~*~ 

There is this--

A three-bedroom house. A car with a ruined motor. A coffee pot and a dog that he calls DUM-E. 

There is this--

A town that watches him and lets him fix their broken washing machines and lawn mowers, that bring him old cars. 

There is this--

Long nights that are full of deep sleep and lazy mornings taking apart radios and a name, on the tip of his tongue, when he stares at the sunlight bright sky. 

~*~ 

There is, this, too--

Something is missing. 

He doesn’t think he minds. 

~*~ 

There’s a boy, small for his age and he’s snarky and unimpressed but he listens when Tony talks, listens to the mindless chatter and helps him in his garage, and he shows Tony the best places for coffee in town. 

He sits with Tony when his chest aches and he rubs at the scar there, not sure why it feels wrong, like something is missing. 

“You’re going to be ok, old man,” he says, softly, when Tony trembles and doesn’t know  _ why _ . “I promise you’ll be ok.” 

Tony doesn’t know why--but he believes him. 

~*~ 

He is happy, here, in a dirty workshop filled with broken cars and unassembled motors, with grease under his nails and coffee thick in the air and golden sunshine pouring through thin windows. 

There are tshirts in his dresser and slippers he shuffles through the house in, and long empty days filled with tinkering and fixing and walking DUM-E. 

He misses, sometimes, something he cannot name--the rush of wind in his face and a soaring freedom. 

✮✮✮

You follow him into a cafe, and Rhodey orders a cup of coffee, a burger and onion rings and when you don’t do the same, he sighs and orders for you. 

“Remember what I said,” he tells you and you open your mouth, but the bell jingles and--

Your breath catches. 

He’s beautiful. 

He’s standing there, laughing at the boy at his side, and he’s  _ beautiful _ , tucked away in Rosehill, Tennessee. 

Tony’s gaze swings over the room, over  _ you _ , there and gone, before recognition fills his eyes, and he drags his friend across the room. 

“Colonel Rhodes,” he says, brightly, and your heart  _ stops.  _

✮✮✮

Rhodey explains it, when you’re both tucked into your hotel room and he’s a little bit drunk and there are tears in his eyes and you hate him for letting Tony do this. 

“It was Extremis. We needed it, to put him back together--and he was tired,” Rhodey says, slowly. “He didn’t want this anymore.” 

A tiny noise slips free of you and Rhodey looks at you, plaintive. 

“We--it wasn’t on purpose. I don’t think he woulda done it, on purpose. But he’s tired, Cap. He’s been tired for a long time--he’s been tired since he came outta that cave, I think.” 

You understand that. You’ve been tired for so long, you can’t remember a time you weren’t. 

✮✮✮

“I want to see him,” you say and Rhodey nods. 

✮✮✮

Tony is alone in the shop, working on a lawn mower, and he flicks a look at you, bright and beautiful and there is nothing like recognition in those familiar eyes. “Can I help you?” 

“There’s a bike,” you say, desperately, “A friend gave it to me--but she needs some work.” 

Interest brightens his eyes. “Ohhh, darling, tell me more.” 

✮✮✮

You call Bucky, and he sighs, this quiet little noise that doesn’t seem as irritated or as sad as you expect. “You’re stayin, huh, punk.” 

It’s not a question. 

“I don’t wanna do this anymore,” you say, and Rhodey, at your side, makes a hurt noise. 

“I know,” Bucky murmurs. 

“Sam--the shield--” 

“I’ll give it to him. But you gotta come visit, kay? You ain’t just leavin’ me here with Sam fuckin’ Wilson.” 

You laugh, and it’s wet and relieved and there’s a looseness in your chest, and it doesn’t hurt, when you breathe. “You’re fuckin’ Wilson.” 

Bucky laughs, low and throaty and you smile when you hang up. 

“You sure about this?” Rhodey asks, and you smile, the sun bright on your skin and the sound of Tony cursing cheerfully in his garage ringing in your ears. “He doesn’t know who you are,” Rhodey reminds you, like you can forget. 

✮✮✮

There is this--

Tony smiles at you in a room filled with metal and his creation, and his smile is familiar and fond. 

There is this--

He nudges you toward a couch and tells you to entertain DUM-E and moves around you like you’ve always been there, a muscle memory that sings to you. 

There is this--

When you hand him coffee and he’s distracted and knee-deep in projects, he mumbles, “Thanks, Cap.” 

And your heart  _ stops.  _

✮✮✮

“Are you sure?” Rhodey asks, gentle, and worried, and you think about it. 

About this place that Tony shouldn’t know, and the boy who saved him, once, saving him again. 

About the name, careless and warm and  _ his _ , slipping off Tony’s tongue.

About the nightmares and the fighting, and the regrets. 

You aren’t tired, here. 

You don’t carry a weapon and you aren’t a leader and the only thing remarkable about you, is the way Tony grins at you and the amount of pie you eat at the diner. 

You became someone else, once. For your country. 

He did, too. For the world. 

You want to become someone else again. You want to become someone else, for him. For yourself. 

Rhodey is watching you, that question hanging in the air. 

“Yeah,” you say, and you are. 


End file.
